


the long reach of a letter

by ninemoons42



Series: Dragon Age Inquisition - Kiriya - Original Flavor [22]
Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Dragon Age Quest: Contact Hero of Ferelden, Epistolary, Established Relationship, Execution, F/M, Gen, Long-Distance Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 00:16:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5561410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the immediate aftermath of Adamant Fortress, Kiriya Trevelyan reaches out to someone who might be able to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She woke from a dream of desert sands and desert stains. Blood on her boots and on her blades and on her hands. Screams, oaths, and the roar of a dragon.

She woke and she threw the covers to the foot of her bed.

Armor on its stand -- not hers. Cullen had taken his sword and risen and pressed a kiss to her brow. A matter of some importance in the barracks. They had a prisoner to watch over, someone she would judge, and they were keeping a very close watch on him indeed. She had seen Blackwall rotating into the prison, had seen the grim look on Cassandra’s face as she’d emerged from her shift. 

She had to wait for them. Had to wait for Leliana’s questions and Cullen’s report.

Kiriya crossed to her desk and sat down. An orange sat on top of a sheaf of letters. Josephine was trying to cheer her up. She wanted to do something for her faithful friend, for the hard work and for the constant careful insight. 

She picked through the sheaf, and paused as she caught sight of a seal. Unusual, this. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen it, but she’d almost forgotten when she’d sent the letter and gotten this reply.

_My lady,_

_You will, again, forgive me for the lack of titles -- I assure you I don’t mean a lack of respect. Never think that way of me. But I’ve found, and I know that you agree with me on this, that sometimes the approach direct can yield the best results, or the most expedient ones._

_In any case, this letter really does contain rather personal information about me, and about Youka, and I would be quite grateful for this information to remain private._

_While it’s no secret that Youka and I have long maintained our relationship, what_ is _a secret is the errand on which my beloved has departed. It has been a long time and a long search. There are a few things that you should know about her, and me, and about the Grey Wardens, so let me begin with that._

_We Wardens, or those of us who have gone through the Joining (so, yes, that means Wardens), must submit ourselves to the darkspawn taint -- in so doing, we acquire those abilities which are extremely necessary to our survival. The consequences, however, are as you might perhaps expect -- and in the end we must all bow, not to the ravages of time (we don’t have that luxury) but to that thing which has been poured into our blood._

_We refer to it as the Calling: we hear a song that pulls us into battle with our ancient foes, the darkspawn. It comes to us sooner rather than later; estimates vary, from as few to thirty years to perhaps as many as fifty. But no more than that. The Calling comes and we can’t resist it. So we don’t. Most of us set out for Orzammar, into the Deep Roads, never to return alive. (At least I hope not.)_

_If you’ve ever wondered why you never saw an old Grey Warden before, now you know._

_There are, strangely, exceptions. Youka has mentioned at least two of them to me, and to my knowledge one of these exceptions is even now sheltering with you at Skyhold. Grand Enchanter Fiona used to be a Grey Warden. But somehow she has found a way to purge herself of the darkspawn taint. I can only hope that she has given my Youka some kind of information that might be useful, some trail, some clue._

_I miss Youka greatly, and I’m not afraid to tell you that._

_Leliana told me, once, that she_ had _tried to look for Youka, because there was a position that needed filling, because she felt Youka might be the right person for that position. Don’t be angry at Leliana, I ask, as I asked my beloved. We are all of us intimately familiar with that saying about desperate times. In any case, you have taken that position and we are all safer and more protected for it._

_I, too, have been hearing rumors of the Grey Wardens in Orlais falling under the sway of your enemy, and I hope I don’t have to tell you that this makes me feel nervous indeed. I have already sent a few discreet inquiries along to the Wardens in my kingdom, and I will pass along whatever intelligence they may find. (That is, if Leliana doesn’t let you know first. Truly, her talents can be quite frightening. I don’t mind telling you that and Leliana already knows.)_

_And now we circle back to the true purpose of this letter. I thank you for the warning to my beloved. The letters from her are few and far between, but I will do what I can to pass on your concerns, and to send you -- through Leliana -- whatever information she might be able to pass along._

_Wish me and my beloved well in our work, and do not doubt for a second that we hope and pray for your continued success. I pray, for you, more wisdom and more courage. I pray for your safety as I do my Youka’s._

_Alistair Theirin_

Kiriya read the letter a second time, and a third -- and then the candles at her desk guttered out in the cold breath of a midnight breeze.

She looked up from her letters. Hazy clouds and pallid moonlight washed the peaks of the Frostbacks.

“A hard life,” she murmured, and she reached for a blanket to huddle into, and then there was a step on the stairs.

She reached for her stiletto, and waited, and held her breath -- 

Flash-spark. The sharp smell of a kindled fire. A flickering flame.

“What are you doing sitting here in the dark?” Leliana asked as she came into view.

“How did you know?” Kiriya answered. 

“Know?”

“I was thinking that it would be prudent to send for you,” Kiriya murmured as she re-lit her candles from the lantern in her friend’s hand. “Have we any word from your search for -- for Youka Surana?”

Leliana made a little sound -- something like pain, and something like fondness, and something like loneliness -- and Kiriya very carefully did not look in her direction. She pretended to busy herself with the orange instead, peeling the rind away in five ragged lobes.

“It’s been a while since my agents have found even a trace of her,” Leliana said, after a moment, and she sounded distant even though she was sitting right next to Kiriya’s desk. “Perhaps Youka has moved out of the territory where she had last been sending letters from.”

“Did she learn that from you, do you think?” Kiriya asked. “Woodcraft. How to move around unnoticed and unseen.”

“I was one among many teachers, I would imagine by now,” was the quiet response. “I have not seen her in quite some time. I miss her. She is dear to my heart, as you well know.”

Kiriya nodded, solemnly, and offered her half of the orange. “Now that I know what she’s doing, it almost feels like I’m interrupting her with these Grey Warden problems.”

“You are sending her news, and information that she might find useful,” Leliana said, and was that a note of chiding in her voice? “Do not for a moment think that she would dismiss you out of hand.”

“But the Orlesian Wardens might well ask her to lead them.”

“And I think she would tell them where to stick it.” Now Leliana was smirking, a little. “They need to think about what they’ve done -- and they need to let her do what she’s doing, if they ever wish to be freed from their curse. And by _they_ I speak of -- of Youka herself. Of Alistair and his brothers and sisters.”

Kiriya nodded. “Then let’s carry on with the search.”

“Your will, Inquisitor.”

“Oh, and Leliana.”

She watched her friend turn, her eyes hidden in her habitual cowl. “Yes?”

“I will judge Erimond in the morning. Will you and Josephine see to the necessary arrangements?” Kiriya thought for a moment. “Do you think he has any more information to give us?”

Three times Leliana tapped a fingertip against her pursed lips. “No,” she said, eventually, “I believe that there is nothing more he will say, and nothing more we can take from him.”

“Thank you.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Whatever it is you believe, I know you’re mistaken,” Kiriya murmured. And: “Commander.”

He was there, grim-faced, snowflakes settling in his hair and upon his shoulders. “What is your judgment, Inquisitor?”

“Take this man to the courtyard for me. I will execute him myself.”

Was Leliana slipping away through the anxious murmuring throng? No, no time to think. No time to be distracted. Out into the snowbound morning she marched, with her companions solidly behind her.

Cullen was forcing Erimond down to his knees, and the magister’s proud mask had cracked, fear coming off him in pungent waves.

She regretted that Hawke was not here now. He’d never made it back to Skyhold, despite Varric’s protests -- he had hurried off to Weisshaupt and to his other tasks -- and she would have liked him to be here, to see this judgment with his own eyes.

Well, Varric would have to tell him the tale.

Kiriya drew one of her knives.

She took a step forward.

A muscle in Erimond’s jaw jumped, hard -- but there were no tears in his eyes.

One slash, deep and swift and painless and true.

Kiriya let go of Erimond’s body and stepped away as it collapsed into a heap on the snow-flecked stones. “Burn him,” she said.

“Your will, Inquisitor,” Cullen said, and there was approval in his eyes.

She stared at the crowd until it reluctantly dispersed.

“He deserved that,” Cole said, and then he walked away with the rest of her companions.

She watched as the snow continued to fall, as the white began to blot out the red blood. In an hour, perhaps less, the stain would be effaced and the courtyard would bear no trace of the man she had killed.

Kiriya sighed, and thought of Jean-Marc Stroud, and headed for her quarters.

Voices within, and the flickering light of a bright fire.

“Sister,” Yelena said.

A surprise. A relief.

Kiriya let her sister fold her close, let herself sag into her sister’s warmth.

“Come and eat,” said another voice: Elisavet, standing at the great desk, carefully shifting the sheaves of parchment around. “Knowing you, you have been neglecting yourself again.”

“We asked the cook for a berry pie,” Yelena said, pushing a steaming plate in Kiriya’s direction. “But first eat that.”

Porridge, slightly salted, and slices of hard-boiled egg on top. “Feels like Ostwick,” Kiriya said, between mouthfuls. 

“You must keep your strength up,” Elisavet said as she poured the tea. “There is still much that needs doing.”

“Don’t remind me,” Kiriya muttered, and scraped her plate clean.

A wedge of sharp cheese and a few olives, and then she was eagerly cutting into the pie.

“Speaking of Ostwick,” Yelena said as she picked at sugar-threaded crust, “Marya’s been writing such interesting letters, have you read the latest one? We must remember to thank Master Tethras, too. He has been quite generous with his time and with his insights.” 

“Tell Katerinne to send him something from the family cellars,” Elisavet suggested.

“Make that several somethings,” Kiriya said, nodding. She licked berry-scented syrup off her teeth and took another bite of pie.

A knock on the door.

“Come,” Kiriya said.

“I can return at another time,” said the newcomer.

“Sister Nightingale,” Elisavet said. “Come and join us; we are breaking fast.”

“Tempting,” Leliana laughed, “especially if Kiriya’s planning to eat that berry pie all by herself. But -- I’ve also received an important letter.”

“Pull up a chair,” Kiriya said, wiping her hands on a cloth. “I’ll trade you a slice of pie for your important letter.”

“Fair trade.”

Folded parchment, and a blue-wax seal, with the imprint of a crude representation of a griffon’s wing. “You didn’t open it?”

Leliana shook her head.

So Kiriya slit the parchment open, and out fell a handful of folded pages. One was larger than the rest, and also unsealed, and this note Kiriya opened first.

_To Her Worship, Inquisitor Trevelyan,_

_(Do forgive me for hewing to such formalities. Should we perhaps continue to correspond in the future, I will dispense with them.)_

_I appreciate your warning regarding Corypheus. Fortunately, my own search has taken me out of the area where the supposed magister is operating, and while I have encountered challenges of my own, they have not involved any weakness related to my Grey Warden abilities._

_I have little useful information to offer, but please be assured: if, in my quest, I find anything that may be of use to you in your fight against Corypheus, I will send it to you immediately._

_I have also taken the liberty of sending you a few other letters, these of a more personal nature. There is one for my Alistair, of course, but as I have heard that they are now with you at this time, there are also notes for my friends Leliana and Morrigan._

_Will you please tell them, on my behalf, that they are in my thoughts constantly?_

_And will you please take good care of them?_

_Part of me wishes that I could help your Inquisition more personally because the danger of Corypheus and the Breach approaches the threat of even another Blight. Regardless, I have my own path to follow, and I must uncover a cure for the Calling if I wish to see my king ever again. I beg you, keep his kingdom safe until I can return to his side._

_Yours,_   
_Youka Surana_   
_Warden-Commander of Ferelden_

Kiriya smiled, and took Leliana’s hand briefly where it had fallen motionless on the desk -- then she sorted out the three sealed letters and placed them in that hand. “These are for you, I believe.”

“It -- it is very kind of her to think of us, when her own troubles are quite overwhelming,” Leliana said, after a moment.

“You’ll feel better after you’ve delivered the other letters and read your own -- go on with you, then,” Kiriya said. “If we must confer again, we can do it at the evening meal, or in the morning. For now -- you have letters.”

“Yes, it appears that I do. Thank you, Kiriya.”

“And now you seem to have made friends with the Hero of Ferelden,” Elisavet said, looking quietly impressed.

“That’s one more person to worry about,” Kiriya sighed.

**Author's Note:**

> Introducing my Hero of Ferelden, the elven mage/arcane warrior Youka Surana.
> 
> \---
> 
> I am also on [tumblr](http://ninemoons42.tumblr.com/) and my Dragon Age: Inquisition blog is [here](http://ninemoons42-inquisition.tumblr.com/).


End file.
